


Gold in Your Hands

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: Christmas Shopping, F/M, Fluff, Holding Hands, Insecurity, Leverage Secret Santa Exchange 2020, M/M, Multi, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29008968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: Our favorite idiots are soft, and maybe a little emotionally stunted - but they're working on it!  AKA - Hardison just wants to hold his partners' hands, dammit.For Annide - Thank you for participating in the Leverage Secret Santa gift exchange this year!
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	Gold in Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annide/gifts).



Parker has held his hand a hundred times, at least, but always while in the middle of or relating to one of their cons. Hardison frowns as he realizes this, glancing over from his laptop to look at Parker. She’s standing with Eliot, coordinating the physical aspects on their latest job. They’ve been trying this whole poly relationship with Eliot for a few months now, and overall Hardison has never been happier. His sudden introspection about the hand holding aside, he has no complaints.

Just then, Parker looks up from the schematics she and Eliot have splayed out on the counter and gives him a little smile before going back to it. Hardison smiles back and pushes the concern out of his mind for the time being. Maybe Parker’s just not a particularly touchy-feeling person. He can respect that.

“You ever notice Parker doesn’t hold our hands in public?” Hardison asks Eliot a few days later.

They’re grabbing coffees from around the corner, letting Parker sleep in after she’d wrapped herself up into a blanket burrito and refused to leave the ‘cocoon of comfort.’

Eliot raises an eyebrow at him as they leave the coffee shop and head back towards the apartment.

“What are you, 12?” he asks, snorting.

“You’re 12!” Hardison replies, sticking his tongue out at Eliot briefly.

“Not quite,” Eliot drawls and smirks. “But I haven’t heard any complaints from you or Parker.”

Hardison just rolls his eyes, not bothering to smack Eliot on the shoulder since the other man is holding two drinks.

“You wanna hold my hand, too?” Eliot asks, still smirking slightly, as if the idea amuses him.

Hardison shrugs easily. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “Sometimes.”

“Oh,” Eliot says, smirk dropping from his face.

He stops walking and waits for Hardison to stop beside him, thankful that nobody is behind them on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t mean to make fun of you, man,” he says, looking up at Hardison earnestly.

“I know,” Hardison says. “I figured you just weren’t comfortable holding another man’s hand in public because of, you know, the whole good ol’ boy thing.”

Eliot cringes, even though he knows Hardison is right.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says, seriously. “Or of myself, or anything like that.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, and Hardison takes a moment to be impressed by how far they’ve come with their communication skills.

“I appreciate that,” Hardison says. “And you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Just not yet,” Eliot says quickly. “Eventually, ok?”

“Ok,” Hardison says. “And it’s ok if you’re never comfortable with it. It won’t change anything.”

“Thanks,” Eliot says, grinning at him for a moment before darting forward and pressing a short kiss onto Hardison’s surprised mouth.

Hardison braces himself at the last moment and manages not to spill the coffee all over his ridiculous boyfriend.

“Don’t get used to that,” Eliot warns, pointing a finger at Hardison even as blushes prettily.

Hardison is too stunned to reply, but the dopey smile stays on his face all the way back to the apartment.

The three of them are walking around the Saturday market another day, enjoying it before the rainy season sets in. Eliot’s already wandered off to see the silversmith’s latest work, and Hardison has intentions to check out some of the new artwork. Parker however, perks her head up suddenly and grabs his hand, tugging him towards the smell of frying dough and cinnamon sugar.

“Elephant ears!” she says, pulling him through the crowd with ease, gripping his hand tightly.

Hardison follows willingly, relishing in the feel of her hand in his, and looking forward to the admittedly delicious fried dough treat. When they finally get to the food truck, Parker lets go of his hand to drum her hands on the countertop shelf, and he tries not to be too disappointed. He mostly succeeds.

“Can I hold your hand?” Hardison asks Parker months later, as they’re browsing the bookstore for Christmas gifts for Eliot. The man likes to pretend he’s only interested in fighting and cooking, but they’ve both seen hidden stash of mystery and romance novels he thinks they don’t know about.

He expects Parker to protest, or to tease him like Eliot had. But she just shrugs and says sure, slipping her hand into his and linking their fingers, as if she’s not blowing Hardison’s entire mind right now.

“You don’t mind?” he asks, squeezing her hand gently.

“Why would I mind?” Parker asks, stopping her browsing to look over at him with a curious expression.

Hardison shrugs, suddenly feeling foolish about the whole thing.

“You’ve just never held my hand in public,” he says, sheepishly. “Outside of a job, anyway,” he amends.

Parker regards him silently for a long moment, and Hardison can practically see the realization dawn in her eyes as she finally smiles.

“You just want to make sure that it’s real?” she asks. “That I won’t change my mind when people we aren’t conning are around?”

“A little,” Hardison admits, letting Parker pull him a little closer, so that they’re tucked along the side of one of the tall bookcases. “I know it’s dumb of me, and insecure, and childish…”

“It’s not,” Parker says, interrupting. For a horrible moment, Hardison thinks she’s referring to their relationship, but she continues before he can work himself up too much.

“It’s not dumb,” she says, “or childish. Maybe a little insecure.”

Hardison huffs out a laugh at that.

“I’m…” Parker says, frowning slightly and squeezing Hardison’s hand again. “I’m probably never going to be the one to remember to hold your hand.”

Hardison nods, knowing by now when Parker isn’t done with her thoughts.

“But you can always ask,” she says. “And if I don’t want to do something, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah?” Hardison asks, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Yeah,” Parker says, resolutely. “I trust you.”

“Hell yeah, healthy communication!” Hardison says, raising their joined hands up in the air in a victory pump.

Parker laughs at him but lets him do as he pleases.

“It’s always real,” she says, once Hardison lets their hands back down. “Even when it’s a con. I’m no Sophie, I couldn’t act for that long with anyone but you and El.”

“You’re perfect,” Hardison says, because that’s how he feels and he’ll be damned if logic is going to ruin his good mood.

“You’re pretty ok, I guess,” Parker says, giving him a smirk.

She pulls her hand away then, eager to run her fingers along the spines of the books as she continues to look for the perfect one for Eliot.

Hardison finds that he doesn’t mind, now that he knows there will be a next time if he asks.

“We should absolutely get Eliot the entire Twilight series,” he says, eyeing the Young Adult section with interests.

Parker’s answering cackle of delight tells him all he needs to know, and he heads for the shelves. Christmas morning is going to be hilarious.

THE END


End file.
